We provide what we divide in thoughts of you,
And so the subdivisions collect and reside from you.
The acidified sides of the triangle are three,
Collect these points and lines for applications.
The crucified countryman is a lesser man,
Cyanide inhibits me as a man who has pseudonyms.
Those names are certificates following one after
The other, a glory is made from the other creation.
Glide then to the gestured ground so slack and happy,
Frying the creative spirit, flying with a fortified soul.
Massacres seem afoot, but then where are souls
Of united spirit?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem